Portovenere Is Italian for the Unwinding Place

This Italian Riviera town clings in splendid isolation to the rocky slopes of a promontory jutting into the Mediterranean.

Unlike nearby Portofino and Rapallo, often so glutted with tourists that traffic resembles gridlock in Manhattan, Portovenere has retained much of the character of a placid fishing village. Neither Dante nor Petrarch, who journeyed through the town and mention it in their poetry, would find it much altered.

Portovenere’s setting is striking, on craggy, striated cliffs augmented by works of man that surmount, and seem to grow out of, the rugged rock formations. On a warm afternoon one finds myriad pleasures for the senses: the bright Mediterranean hues of the houses, the slap of water against the wall of the harbor, scents of ocean and cypress, a meal of sweet, fresh mussels and cool, white wine. All can be savored at a pace sure to soothe the weariest traveler.

Portovenere’s uncrowded calm is due to its location at the tip of a finger of land curving into a sheltered gulf, long accessible only by a winding, narrow road from the naval and commercial port of La Spezia. In spite of its military installation, that city is a pleasant and popular resort, and a convenient base for exploring Portovenere and other towns of the region.

Take the Bus

A new road will soon link Portovenere with other coastal towns to the north and south. The adventurous way to get here is by bus from La Spezia. Tickets for the seven-mile ride can be bought in tobacco shops (of which there are many as in any Italian city), and the fare of about 25 cents is a bargain for the breathtaking ride.

Boarding the bus on La Spezia’s main street, you join a lively crush of housewives, schoolchildren and a few travelers. The women, from the pastel stucco houses on the hills above the bay, come into La Spezia to shop at its huge outdoor market. Aromas of bread, fruit and cheese escape from their neatly wrapped parcels.

As the bus labors up the steep, winding road, the panoramas of the harbor become more spectacular. The combination of sparkling sea stippled with boats and lush green hills with their vivid patchwork of houses, tile roofs, bougainvillea vines and citrus trees, would sorely try a visiting driver’s ability to concentrate on the road.

But you are free to luxuriate in the view with only such minor distractions as when, at some blind corner, yet another tiny Fiat narrowly avoids an inadvertent kamikaze attack. The braying of the bus klaxon sounds at every curve in the road.

After this exhilarating journey, you are deposited in a small piazza at the end of Portovenere’s waterfront. The mouth of the Gulf of La Spezia spreads before you, glinting in the sun beyond ranks of small boats rocking at their moorings. The low outline of the island of Palmaria, sheltering the village from the buffeting of the open sea, seems close enough to trace with a finger.

Looming Stone Wall

A continuous wall of houses, most seven or eight stories high but scarcely 12 feet wide, rises to your right as you walk along the wharf. Many date from the 12th Century and were fortified by the Genoese during their occupation of Portovenere and its strategically important harbor.

The once-forbidding aspect of the looming stone wall has been softened by the shutters and terraces and sunny colors of each narrow house. Against a background of terra cotta or pink or saffron plaster, many terraces sport a profusion of potted plants or a cage of bright, noisy parakeets.

Occupying the ground floor of most houses are restaurants and cafes, with outdoor tables under awnings that spread out over the wharf-side esplanade. You may sample fresh seafood specialties or sip a glass of wine as you observe the endlessly absorbing flow of activity around you.

At the height of summer, the cafes are filled with vacationing Italians, laughing and animated, but in spring or fall a peaceful calm prevails.

Pilots of small excursion boats relax in the low afternoon sun, talking idly and smoking. They seem to have adopted a uniform of battered black cap, white T-shirt and loose khaki shorts from which their wiry legs emerge as brown and knotted, from years of sun and sea, as the ropes tethering their boats.

Continuing along the promenade, you reach the end of the harbor. The course broadens to form a wide, sloping pathway of rose-gray stone rising to the church of San Pietro, which caps a pyramid of rock cleaving the bright ocean. This small church with its bands of bicolored stone is a 12th-Century Genoese structure, built on the ruins of a 6th-Century monastery, of which little remains but a few worn marble paving stones.

Dedicated to St. Peter, that “fisher of men” and patron of sailors, the church stands near the site of an ancient temple to Venus, another protector of seafarers and Portovenere’s namesake. On one side of the church a terrace, framed by slender columns rising to delicate pointed arches, looks out to the open sea. Inside, the church is plain and spare of ornamentation, as if its dramatic site alone testified to the faith of its builders.

The broad expanse of stone before the church is bordered by stout, crenelated walls, pierced at intervals by portals leading to terraced paths that snake down the rocks to the water’s edge. The sea has scoured little bays and hollows into the rock, affording many private refuges for swimmers and sunbathers.

Byron’s Grotto

The area’s most noted aquatic feat, Byron’s swim across the gulf to Lerici, is commemorated by a plaque on the stone wall high above a sea cave known as Byron’s Grotto. The harsh beauty of the land and the sea inspired Byron as he wrote “The Corsair,” and the grotto is said to be the model for the lair of his pirate hero.

Lying on the rocks and listening to the faint boom of breakers in the sea cave, it is easy to imagine a small galleon slipping into it under cover of night.

Sated with sun and water, you descend the paved incline back to the harbor. If your appetite has been whetted by swimming or rock-scrambling, a restaurant awaits in the little corner where the esplanade ends abruptly, meeting the towering rock of the promontory. Named Il Corsaro, after Byron’s brigand, it offers a variety of seafood, simply prepared to highlight its freshness and delicacy.

On warm afternoons the windows of the terrace dining room are thrown open, enhancing your meal with a view of Palmaria across the narrow channel. As you savor the harvest of local waters, small fishing boats chug into the harbor with the latest catch, and you may see a skin diver gathering shellfish from the rocks below.

The “Fantasia del Corsaro” eliminates the dilemma of choosing among many tempting offerings to begin your repast. A beautifully arranged platter of cold salads, it may contain prawns in a fresh mayonnaise blushed pink with tomato, tiny purple-and-white octopuses, polpetti in a garlic vinaigrette, baby shrimp and fingernail-size mussels dressed with fresh herbs and crisp slivers of carrot in a sharp, tasty dressing.

As lovely as an Impressionist watercolor, the array is composed to delight the eye as much as the palate. The perfect companion for this medley of flavors is the soft, fruity white wine of the region, and of course a basket of bread.

Pastas may be topped with clams and tomatoes, with garlic-fragrant sauteed prawns, or with the ubiquitous Ligurian pesto, but a visit to Portovenere would be incomplete without a taste of the pale gold mussels called “sea dates” because of their shape. The mollusk is found only in the waters around the Gulf of La Spezia, and is said to be most succulent when harvested from the rocks of Portovenere and Palmaria.

Perhaps the most famous connoisseur of the delectable shellfish was the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, who required a large shield mounded with sea dates as part of the annual tribute due from his vassals in La Spezia. Their flavor is subtle and sweet, and they may be served hot in the shell with olive oil and garlic, cold with oil and lemon, or tossed with spaghetti flecked with herbs.

If you have room for anything but an espresso after this feast, sample the seasonal fruit. The peaches are fragrant and luscious in spring, and in the fall, ripe black figs are a sensuous treat.

Air of Desertion

As you linger at your meal, your eye rests on the enigmatic bulk of Palmaria across the channel. Tiny structures cling here and there to its rock-ribbed slopes, but it has the air of being utterly deserted. The sea-sculpted caverns of the island once sheltered small tribes of primitive man.

You may see artifacts from the caves, tools and cooking vessels, in the archeological museum in La Spezia. In addition to the Stone Age dwellings, Palmaria has marble quarries, and there’s a lighthouse and a ruined medieval abbey on Tino, an islet hidden in Palmaria’s shadow.

If time allows, you can explore the islands via a boat chartered in Portovenere. The sunbathing and swimming off their rugged shores are among the best in the area.

A stroll along the main street completes your circuit of the little town. Hidden behind the high wall of adjoining houses, this narrow lane parallels the waterfront and is lined with tiny shops displaying local wares. You can select a paperweight of portoro , black marble shot with gold veins, quarried on Palmaria, or a bottle of Cinque Terre wine to drink as a reminder of your visit.

If the sun’s warmth has crept into your limbs, slowing the pace of your departure, you have fallen under the spell of one of Italy’s most enchanting retreats, in the company of such discriminating travelers as Percy Bysshe Shelley and D. H. Lawrence. Even Richard Wagner’s Teutonic soul was not immune; he composed a part of the prelude to “Das Rheingold” in Portovenere.

Although no such inspiration can be guaranteed, Portovenere does promise a bit of the dolce vita-- sun, sea, simple but delicious food and wine, and an atmosphere that encourages the fullest enjoyment of the pleasures at hand.